


Helping Hand

by helens78



Category: due South
Genre: Humor, Injury, M/M, Misunderstanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-17
Updated: 2010-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:30:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ray sprains his right wrist, Fraser thinks it's no big deal -- until Ray starts complaining about the ways it's awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helping Hand

If Fraser rolls his eyes _one more goddamned time_ , Ray is going to kick him in the head. "Don't tell me it's just a--"

"-- _sprain_ , Ray, it is a Grade I, _mild_ , sprain."

"It is my _right wrist_ , Fraser. Do you have any idea how many useful things I do with my right wrist on a daily basis?"

"Oh, I'm sure your left hand can substitute for most of those, Ray. And in this day and age, you won't need to handwrite much of anything."

"I'm not a left-handed shooter, for one thing," Ray says, ticking things off on his _left_ fingers, one at a time. "You get into trouble, like you do on an _hourly_ basis, and I may not be able to back you up."

"You're already assigned to a week's light duties," Fraser counters. "And since my duties here are dependent on yours, I don't believe either one of us will be getting into any trouble."

"Plus there are things of a personal nature that are just plain _awkward_ like this," Ray continues. If Fraser thinks they can't get into trouble while on light duties, he hasn't been paying a lot of attention. "Personal stuff. _Human_ stuff."

For the first time, Fraser's starting to look convinced. "Oh. Well--"

" _Guy_ stuff, Fraser. I can't break all these years of habit overnight, not that I didn't _try_."

Fraser opens and closes his mouth several times, takes his hat off, stares down at it, and eventually puts it carefully in his lap. Ray blinks at him a few times, wondering what in the Royal Canadian hell Fraser _thinks_ he just said that got him all wound up like that.

"Fraser?"

"You're right, Ray, it's a bit worse than I'd figured," Fraser says softly, eyes still on his hat. "Will you--manage? On your own?"

"You asking if I need help?"

Fraser's fingertips drum lightly against the brim of his hat. "Well. I--" He exhales sharply through his nose. "I--yes. I--think I am."

"No, I'm pretty sure I can just sit down to piss, or aim left-handed, it'll be fine--awkward, but fine," Ray says, frowning over at Fraser, who's sat bolt upright and looks as though he's trying hard not to sink through the floor and die. "And speaking of being fine, you do not look--"

"I'm afraid I may have left the stove on at the Consulate," Fraser stammers, and then he's up and out of the room, hat still held directly in front of him. Ray shakes his head; no telling what that was all about.

* * *

Four hours and fifty-seven minutes later, the penny drops, and with it, Ray's jaw. He slams on the brakes and turns the Goat around, heading back toward the Consulate.

 _Personal stuff. Human stuff. Guy stuff._

 _You asking if I need help?_

 _Well. I-- I--yes. I--think I am._

The rest of the staff's gone home for the night, but Fraser _lives_ there, so it's not like he's run off. When Ray knocks on the door, there's a round of enthusiastic barking from inside, and a few moments later Fraser opens the door for him.

"Ray--what a surprise--"

"You didn't think I meant I needed help aiming, did you?"

Fraser blinks, face mashing into that same expression from before, the one that says he just got shoved into a corner and doesn't know how to get out again. "I'm afraid we misunderstood each other."

"Yeah, well, _I'm_ afraid I sprained my right wrist, and it's gonna be out of action for the next few days, maybe a week. And I think my buddy just offered to help me out--" and here, Ray makes an obscene gesture with his left hand, which, awkward though it may be from being the wrong hand, certainly gets the point across-- "until it's all better."

"As I said," Fraser murmurs, but his eyes are fixed on Ray's groin now, "we misunderstood each other. Which was--" and Ray slides his left hand onto his thigh, splaying his fingers out and then drumming lightly, as his jeans get tighter and tighter. "--really my fault, as I--" Fraser licks his lips and looks back up at Ray's face. "Would you care to come in, Ray?"

"Well," Ray says, sliding the tip of his tongue back and forth over his lower lip, "I _could_ use a helping hand or two."

"Understood," Fraser murmurs, escorting Ray inside and closing the door behind him.

 _-end-_


End file.
